


Chasing Phantoms

by Keikaru



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Neck Kissing, POV First Person, Tenderness, difficult conversations, healing touch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:20:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25213072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keikaru/pseuds/Keikaru
Summary: Sometimes, the rain makes us do strange things.In which Líf kisses the Summoner’s neck scar. But little did she know, his ghostly graze leaves behind a trail of euphoria on her skin.--He propped himself above me by his forearms, and our chests lightly brushed. His gaze,Goddess forgive me, made my heartbeat quicken with such want and desire that if I sinned, I would never want to repent.
Relationships: Líf & Summoner | Eclat | Kiran, Líf/Summoner | Eclat | Kiran
Comments: 4
Kudos: 55





	Chasing Phantoms

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't posted anything in awhile and realized how much I like Líf. 
> 
> So ghost boi kisses the Summoner's scar. Enjoy!

The scar on my neck throbbed while the rain outside steadily drummed on.

A low timbre of thunder rumbled in the distance as I continued to write my report for Commander Anna. Today involved a short scouting mission with a few veteran members of the Askr—along with some heroes from another world. Despite the heroes’ varying backgrounds and motives, coming to Askr would always bring out the best in these heroes, even if some were to cross paths with rivals from their world.

I squinted at the paper on my lightwood desk. The dim, gray light of the afternoon passed weakly through the windowpane of my quarters, and I forced my quill to a stop and lit a candle. With proper lighting, I continued to recall today’s mission.

The rain was constant. Like a drizzling, rhythmic sound that resembled a lullaby. But flashes of lightning and claps of thunder kept me alert, wary almost. Once again, I touched my neck.

The scar was a quiet, burgeoning pain.

My eyes wandered to a small, green cylinder container. Inside contained a soothing, cool ointment. Perhaps I would use it if the ache became intolerable…

Just then, I heard a soft series of raps against my door.

“Summoner? Are you in there?” The voice belonged to Líf, but he sounded reticent. “I wanted to speak with you if you are not busy.”

I placed my quill into the ink bottle, half turning in my chair while moving aside the report. I stood and hurried to the door, a hand on the smooth doorknob. It turned. “I’m not doing much,” I said, as the door slowly opened. “But I’d always be happy to make time for you. Is there something you needed, Líf?”

The door revealed his familiar, ghostly countenance. He towered over me like I was an obelisk and he was the sun. I offered him a smile and gestured for him to enter. “I’ll take the bed. You can take my desk chair.” By mere chance, lightning bathed my quarters in an eerie glow. I let out an awkward laugh to ease the air between us. He seemed almost hesitant to come in but obliged after closing the door behind him.

He remained standing in the center of my room as I sat on the edge of my bed. I crossed one leg over the other. I used to be intimidated by his pointed gaze, but I realized it was only his default expression. It had been months since he was summoned here. Only a month since the forces of Askr defeated Hel and her darkness.

I wondered how Líf felt.

“Are you well, Summoner? You look a little pale.”

I smiled. “I’m OK. The sudden drop in air pressure just bothers my joints.” I changed the topic and prayed it was a smooth transition. “What about you Líf? Do you feel settled here yet? _Ah_.” I realized my mistake. “What I meant was—I know this castle _is_ familiar to you, but…do you feel comfortable being here?” I rambled on, hoping to connect with him. I wished to be closer to him, but I understood he was a reserved individual.

“Yes…” Líf swept a gaze around my room.

For a moment, I felt self-conscious about my space. It was usually neat and minimal, but I felt like I could have prepared tea or reorganized my bookshelf better.

“I do feel comfortable here,” he continued slowly. “In your room, I mean.”

He glanced back at me and quirked his eyebrow. It took me a moment to register his words. Once I did, my face warmed a bit.

“Your room is quite inviting.” He clarified.

“Ah. So it is,” I replied and let out another jittery laugh. I hope he didn’t notice.

“Everyone here is welcoming. Even…Sharena and Alfonse. Commander Anna is still the same as always.”

“I’m glad to hear that then. You will always have a place here, you know.”

“Yes, of course.”

I smoothed out the creases on my gold and ivory cloak. I silently berated myself for being embarrassed. How did I forget that this was his way of showing humor? Lacking a proper mouth, he tended to raise his eyebrow to indicate a teasing comment or amusement. 

There was no need to get worked up over his words.

“You fidget so.”

“Do I?” I didn’t realize my hands were acting of their own accord. I clasped my hands together. “It’s an old habit.”

“Because of the rain? Or—” Líf took a step toward me, the heel of his boots clacked softly against the marble floors.

While the cacophony of rain drowned out the thunder, my body tensed when lightning engulfed my room in a brilliant succession of yellow.

During those brief seconds, Líf’s movement toward me seemed almost frame by frame, like a stop motion film as he inched closer. A sense of apprehension and fear gripped my senses and I could have sworn the figure I saw before me was a ghost. A blue phantom. Whether it was a trick of the mind or from overwork and exhaustion, the person before was not Líf…but a specter from a nightmare.

A frantic feeling welled up inside me. Instinctively, I searched for Breidablik.

“Are you afraid of me?”

I glanced up and saw the ghost standing a mere foot from me. It emitted a strange, ethereal blue glow. Its skin being ghastly pale while its eyes were a loathsome crimson.

“Or are you afraid of what I am?”

Before I realized what transpired, Líf knelt before me. His gauntleted hand rested on mines, the hand that held Breidablik. I forced myself to calm down. And took a deep breath. There was no ghost. The person before me was my ally, my friend.

Líf.

“I’m so sorry,” I managed out. My voice shook. My body trembled. I blamed the dismal weather. “I don’t know what came over me. Forgive me, it was a moment of weakness.” A bitter laugh spilled from my lips. “Perhaps the rain is playing a cruel trick on me today. Too think I would have hurt a friend.”

“Summoner—” his hand was still on mines— “I can return another time. I… am upsetting you.” He retracted his hand and stood up, armor lightly scratching against the floor. “Tomorrow I will visit.”

“Wait, Líf. It’s okay.” I reached over and placed my legendary weapon on my desk. The miasma of fear that held me gradually dispersed. I collected my bearings again. “I’m fine. Truly. I want…I want to know why you came here today.”

He stood by the door as silence seized him. The rain around us continued like a soft orchestra.

Finally, when my heartbeat slowed to an even pace, he spoke.

“I…I wanted to confirm something,” he stated stiffly. “Only if you are comfortable of answering.”

“I suppose it would depend on what it is,” I replied in a thoughtful manner. I wanted to dispel the strange air between us. “But I would be happy to answer whatever you need, especially if it’s a report, record, or something with a receipt. I tend to keep those.”

“Yes. It is something of a ‘receipt.’”

“Oh?” I uncrossed my leg, intrigued.

“Yes,” he repeated.

He took a slow, deliberate step in my direction. I couldn’t help but steal a glance at his blue core before meeting his eyes. His eyes were not cold. It was only my imagination from earlier that made it so.

“You have a scar on your neck.”

He stated like it was a fact as he gazed at me. Something brewed within those eyes of his. What he felt, I did not know. But there seemed to be a melancholic depth to his expression.

I reached up and pressed a hand to where my scar hid. Under the folds of my cloak, I felt it ache.

“I do.”

“May I…see it?” He suddenly cleared his throat. “That is, only if you are….”

I began to unfasten the clasp of my cloak.

“I don’t mind. It’s of the past.” Once the front was loose, I pulled down the left side of my garb to reveal the ‘receipt.’ “You can come closer, Líf.”

Tentatively, he inched forward. With every step, he gauged my reaction. I nodded, indicating his presence did not frighten me like earlier. This time I felt calm. More in control of myself and emotions.

Once again, he knelt on one knee before me. I felt his eyes examine the pale, jagged line of my scar. Lightly, he traced his gauntleted finger over it. I shivered from his frosty touch. Some days, it was easy to forget that he did not have a warm body like mines.

“I hurt you, didn’t I?” Regret laced his voice as he pulled his hand back. “How could I hurt _you_?”

I shook my head and gently reasoned with him.

“Grief and Hel’s influence fogged your sight. We all have our reasons to why we fight, what we do to survive. Don’t blame yourself.” I could tell he did not forgive himself. My heart lurched as our gazes locked. “Let these words pacify your brooding thoughts. You are not to blame. Sökkvabekkr and Breidablik were meant to clash. ”

“Regardless, I did this to you.”

“Líf—"

“The scar will never heal properly. And I am to blame.” He averted his eyes, ashamed. Somehow, the room felt colder, dimmer. His core glowed faintly. “I never realized how blinded I was until I saw you at the end of my blade.”

“But I’m not dead, am I?” I stated quietly. I folded my hands folded into my lap. “I know you avoid me off the battlefield. You don’t always respond when I request for you. You tend to change your path when we see each other in the hallway. But…in a way, me being alive in this world still hurts you—I know that much is true. And I don’t blame you for avoiding me. I suppose, in a morbid way, we are both at fault for each other’s injuries.”

For a moment, a dark thought crossed my mind. 

“Wouldn’t you like to bring _your_ summoner back? Perhaps…” I said slowly, “there is another way.”

“I do, but—” He glanced up, surprised by my sincerity— “you know what the contract entails. Still, what you are suggesting is beyond foolish. We already defeated Hel. And this world still needs you as its tactician, as its light.”

Slowly, I dropped my hand to my boot. 

“But don’t you need your summoner more?” I replied, with no heat behind my words.

He stared at me, perplexed by my suggestion.

“You could have brought your summoner back if you plunged that sword closer to my neck. We didn’t know each other then. You didn’t have to stop, but you did.”

Was it cruel of me to probe for a reaction? To see his stoic demeanor unravel?

“You know the reason why.” His voice taut with emotion and finality. He intended for me to drop it. 

My fingers gripped around a smooth handle inside my boot, the side that was obscured from his vision. I unsheathed a knife from its compartment. While his eyes followed my form, he raised an inquisitive brow.

Was it cruel of me to want him to be honest for once?

“What are you doing?”

When he paused, I pulled the blade out. I felt strangely compelled that I could alleviate his pain if I were to do this.

“Perhaps I could grant you your wish.”

The knife in my hand gleamed as I raised it to my neck.

“ _Kiran, don’t—”_

And just like that, Líf intervened and seized the knife from my grasp, throwing it behind him. It landed with a terrible clang on the floor.

One gauntleted hand was around my wrist while the other gripped deeply into my shoulder. I flinched. Not out of pain, but because of the expression he wore on his face _. I got what I wanted, didn’t I?_ His eyes narrowed and glistened like a raging fire with no intention to be quelled.

But inside the wildfire of his eyes, I knew the flames I stoked was a painful one. 

“ _And to see you die twice_?” His voice bristled in retaliation to my words. I stared at him, not yielding to his gaze. “Why do you always act so impulsively? So recklessly in your actions? Despite all the timelines and worlds, why is it that you retain this foolish, self-sacrificing trait? Even in my world, you suffered a fatal blow _meant for me_ but instead—you protected me from Hel. You…you left me. You _died_ in my arms, asking for forgiveness, telling me that you couldn’t bear to live in a world without me—and so you were the first to depart. Do you know how I felt when you left me all alone? When everyone left me?”

“I’m sorry,” was all I could manage out. I blinked. Not once, but a flurry of times as he held fast onto me and continued. “I’m sorry. Líf, I—” _acted so wretchedly toward you._

“Don’t say you would sacrifice yourself. Please. I’m not asking you to. I don’t want you to. Because…Askr needs you, Alfonse needs you— _I_ need you. Alive. In _this_ world. Me being in this world would be meaningless if you died again.” With that, he gradually released his grip on me and sunk to the ground. Bending onto one knee, he hung his head before me like I was the executioner and he was guilty.

But the only crime he was guilty of was being honest.

Tenderly, I reached up and stroked his hair. Líf’s shoulders shook twice—he made no sound. He lifted his head and I interpreted it as a sign to resume. I thumbed away a single tear from his face and his eyes lowered.

For a quiet moment, we stayed in the same position. Thunder rumbled outside like waves crashing upon a distant shoreline. It was loud but it eventually receded once more. I sat on the edge of the bed, with Líf’s body between my legs. I pressed his head close to my chest while my fingers gently threaded through his hair. Apologies escaped from our lips—our words had hurt each other. But we were finally able to address the air between us. Somehow, I felt a bit lighter, less burdened. I felt like I was beginning to understand him, and he to me. But we were never fully able to vocalize how we felt toward one another. I felt something for Líf, but did I extend the same feelings to the Alfonse in my world?

That would always be the strange ravine that forced our distance. It was unvoiced, but we knew it was there.

“Would you allow me to ease your pain?”

He detached himself from me, his head tilted to one side. I resisted the urge to kiss the top of his head.

“I can ease your aching scar, if just momentarily.”

“How so?” I implored, as I caressed his face. Perhaps it was my own pulse, but I thought he felt warm beneath my fingertips.

“Do you have a balm or anointment for it?” He finally asked.

I reached over to my desk and produced a pale green cylinder. His gauntlets lightly scratched at the tin when he took it from my hand. He pried the lid off with ease.

“I can do it myself. I don’t want you to sully your hands.”

“I don’t mind,” he murmured. “Let me.”

He placed the lid on an empty space on the bed and turned his attention to me. With a careful movement, Líf dabbed a bit of the clear balm onto the flat part of his gauntleted fingers. I moved aside my cloak and tunic without reserve.

Once the balm was coated on his index and middle finger, he applied it onto my neck. His touch was light and measured, as if he were afraid of injuring me. Just then—a brief, refreshing sensation eased the ache and I sighed. The ointment offered some, but not all, relief to me. He then traced my scar, starting from the edge of my collarbone up to the curve of my neck. I tensed at his touch. I saw how Líf quirked an eyebrow at my reaction.

I didn’t…I didn’t want to admit that my neck was sensitive. Quite so.

“Does that feel better?”

“Just a bit.” Was my honest reply. “The relief only lasts so long.” It was true. Only a few minutes at best before the ache surfaced again. But I didn’t want to waste better ointments on an old scar when other heroes needed it more than I did.

“If you trust me, I know a better way to alleviate your distress.” He suggested, a low purr in my ear. “Do you trust me?”

I felt my face glow. The quality of his voice enticed me. Thrilled me so.

“Yes,” I breathed out. “I do.”

“It’ll feel better if you lay back,” he ordered, with almost a provocative quality to his voice. Perhaps I imagined it. “Allow me—”

My face grew flushed by his words. The tips of my ears must have been cherry red. I didn’t quite understand what he meant. In fact, I wondered where he was going with it. What he planned on doing.

It scared yet stirred something within me.

Líf pressed me down into the bed, his fingers intertwined in mines. As I fell back onto the covers, he positioned his body between my parted legs. I felt vulnerable, but at the same time, I felt safe. I wanted to be within his embrace.

He propped himself above me by his forearms, and our chests lightly brushed. His gaze, _Goddess forgive me_ , made my heartbeat quicken with such want and desire that if I sinned, I would never want to repent.

“If you tell me to stop,” he lowered himself into the curve of my neck, where the scar was carved. “I will.”

“Y-Yes…”

His voice melted my anxieties and stroked a pleasurable chord within me. Pleased by my consent, Líf gently exhaled a breath over the ointment on my skin. Involuntarily, I shivered. First, a frost chilled down my spine. After that, the cold was replaced by a soothing, cooling sensation. I closed my eyes and drank the instant, intense relief that flooded throughout my body. Every scar, ache, and muscle were soothed—instantly assuaged by Líf’s ministrations. I didn’t know how he did it, but I didn’t want it to end—not yet.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” He mused.

I bit my lip in response, trying to stifle my moan.

Suddenly, Líf withdrew and hovered above me. The relief began to subside, and I let out a gasp. As he caught my eye, I could have sworn he was smirking at my reaction.

“How cute.”

I blushed and couldn’t help but long for more. “Please, Líf,” I whimpered, while coyly exposing my neck. “I…I want more. Again. Please.”

His eyes unraveled my thoughts, perhaps exposing the very core of my desires. My body trembled in anticipation as he bowed his head and obliged.

“As you wish.”

Whatever sorcery or enchantment he used, I wanted to be spellbound. The phantom hand that caressed a pleasurable chord within me expertly worked its touch. I felt warm and bothered, but at the same time, a cool pulse surged throughout the scar and my body. I felt dizzy, dizzy with euphoria—and a desperation for him to touch me.

I moaned, finally realizing the lewd sounds I was making. I blushed deeply and suppressed my voice, turning my head opposite from the scar.

“It’s just us,” his breathed out in a husky timbre on my neck. “I want to hear you.”

With that, my fingers curled tightly into his and I sighed contentedly.

The armor of his mouth lightly grazed over my skin, sending another pleasurable wave throughout me. I gasped and squirmed, my back arched, and I surrendered fully to my senses. He continued in his gentle, teasing ways until I felt sure that in his arms, I was in paradise.

The world melted away and for the first time, I understood what heaven on earth was like.

Slowly, bliss slipped from my mind and drew me back from the banks of ecstasy. Underneath him, I panted. He leaned down and closed the distance between us. Just for a moment, I thought I saw his form flicker—he looked human—or was it a trick of the mind? I wondered if in his eyes, he saw me flicker into a phantom.

Gradually, he drew back, perhaps with extreme reluctance. I was still dazed by his kiss.

“What tethers me to you?” he nuzzled into my neck; a faint tide of bliss washed through me again. “…is it your heartbeat? Or is it your warm hand once more in mines…that makes me feel so alive?”

I curled my fingers tightly into his again.

For the remainder of the afternoon, we remained together.

Líf rested on my bed, his back reclined against the wall. I sat upon his lap and held him; my face pressed to the flat of his chest plate.

“How did you do that?” I was genuinely curious. “Did you amplify the effects of the ointment? Or was it something else entirely? Because it felt like we were…” I blushed. “We were one.”

“It was an enchantment, of sorts.” Líf answered softly, amused. He stroked the back of my head and I let out a sound of contentment. “A spell I learned from Thrasir.”

“I see—” magic did not come naturally to me, so I was intrigued— “Did you ever…try it with someone? _Ah_.” I made a face. “That’s personal. On second thought, you don’t have to answer it.”

I noticed his core glowed, a bit more brightly than usual. His chest shook and it startled me. It took me a moment to realize he was chuckling.

“No. You are the only one.”Líf admitted. With his free hand, he made a vague gesture. “It’s a healing spell, but it’s more effective if the one you are healing has an emotional or close bond with you. Truthfully, I doubted it. But…the results speak for itself.”

“Is it draining to use?” I placed both hands on the armored parts of his chest and moved myself back. Innocently, I peered up at him. “Did you—ah, um—feel what I felt?”

Líf only hummed in response. “I’d rather hear your voice. But—” He lowered me onto the sheets, holding my hands above my head— “next time, I will be more vocal.”

And I realized that paradise was just another word for his embrace.

**Author's Note:**

> ...and Commander Anna's report was never finished. ;D


End file.
